


Hopefull

by BloodDemonLove



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Dehumanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Starvation, Torture, deputy/Pratt are endgame, jacob rapes staci
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodDemonLove/pseuds/BloodDemonLove
Summary: Junior Deputy Micah Rook and Senior Deputy Staci Pratt know that they are breaking rules by being in a relationship while working in the same jurisdiction. They still make it work, and they give a collective middle finger to anyone who questions their ability to put the job first and the relationship second. They've been doing just that for 12 years, ever since high school and even through Rook's deployment to Afghanistan. They felt like nothing could tear them apart, until the Seed Family and Eden's Gate happened.Now, having survived John Seed's BDSM bunker (rescuing Deputy Hudson) and Faith Seed's drug bunker, Rook feels confidant that he can take on Jacob Seed with ease. Will he be successful now that the love of his life is directly involved?





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed that there is far too few fics with Deputy/Pratt, so I thought I might as well fix that. Pratt needs more attention after the shit he went through, in my opinion.  
> This is unbeta'd, purely my own work of fiction. There may be some similarities between my works and others, but only slightly due to writing inspiration. This is not an attempt to steal anyone else's work, and if there are too many similarities, please let me know so I can fix it.

                Deputy Micah Rook tossed and turned on the uncomfortable cot located in a bunker somewhere in the southern region of the Whitetail Mountains. As sleep-deprived and exhausted he was, his dreams were constantly being twisted into nightmares. Sometimes, they were memories he was forced to relive, others seemed like premonitions for the future. No matter what they were, they were terrifying and preventing him from getting a good night's sleep.

                 _Micah_ _had had a bad feeling about the coming hours the minute he woke up, wrapped around the love of his life, Staci Pratt. There was no real reason to feel that way, nothing was out of place, no nightmares to disturb his dreams, there was nothing even remotely amiss. And yet, he couldn't stop this curling claw of dread and anticipation sink into his lower belly. Micah huffed a small sigh, not realizing that his tense posture, combined with the sign, had woken his bed partner. Staci stirred, shifting in Micah's arm until they were face to face instead of spooning. Disregarding morning breath, Staci gave Micah a lazy kiss, "Good morning Mike. Sleep well?"_

_"Slept like a baby, not a nightmare to speak of. And you, my dear?" Rook returned the lazy kiss affectionately, hands rubbing softly up and down the bare expanse of Staci's back, occasionally drifting down to grab a handful of Staci's ass._

_Staci grunted slightly at the grab, "Easy there tiger, not up for another round so soon." They shifted positions slightly so that Staci was laying more on top of Micah than next to him as Micah's fingers made their way down to where his lover was still open and slightly wet from a few hours ago when they'd celebrated the rare chance that they had the same night off._

_Micah grinned up at Staci, "You sure? Maybe you could return the favor? You know I don't mind being on the receiving end."  The statement made Staci groan, hips jolting of their own accord down against Micah's._

_"You may or may not have convinced me." Staci grinned, the motion easy and much more common now than a few months ago when Micah had returned from the military._

_Just as Micah was closing his eyes for the incoming kiss, the scene changed and no longer was he in their bedroom, but on a helicopter heading towards Eden's Gate's compound. The same feeling of dread curled in his stomach, making him unwilling to say anything during the trip. Pratt was sitting up front next to the pilot's seat, helping navigate through the darkness. From the tight line of his shoulders, Rook (they always went by last names while on duty, made it easier to separate home and work life), could tell that his lover was anxious about the upcoming arrest. Marshall Cameron Burke went on and on about how this was the right thing to do, that they were all going to be in the paper the next day for having brought down this cult in one night. Sheriff Whitehorse keeps offering the Marshall opportunities to back out, to wait for more help, but the man was so arrogant, so prideful that he wouldn't even consider it._

_The helicopter landed, they all got out, except the pilot and Pratt, who turned and gave a small smile to Rook, trying to give encouragement despite his own bad feeling. Rook smile in return and got out after everyone else. As soon as his feet hit the dirt, he was aware that this was a dream. The sudden realization made him lag behind the others slightly and despite his best efforts to catch up, his feet would only walk the same pace they had before. No matter how much he tried to go back the copter and drag Pratt out so they could run for the hills and never look back, his body refused to listen. He was stuck, walking the same path, going through the same motions, forced to relive his biggest mistake over and over and over again._

_Then time sped up and suddenly he was hanging upside down, surrounded by fire, smoke, and shouting. The haze cleared just in time for Joseph, the reason behind this failure of an arrest, appeared in front of him. He remembers now that Nancy, fucking Nancy, was working against them this whole time. Then a commotion as his friends, his love, were dragged from the copter, kicking and screaming. Yet his voice refused to work. Not once did he yell out for Pratt, or even Hudson. No, he was paralyzed by fear, by guilt, by regret. The Marshall was saying something but his ears felt plugged with cotton, sound muffled and far away as he watched the love of his life be dragged away from him for the umpteenth time._

                     Rook sat bolt upright in bed, panting and looking around, the remnants of a scream on his lips. It took him a solid 5 minutes before he realized that he wasn't stuck on that cursed helicopter anymore. He was on his way to rescue Pratt (Staci, his mind supplied. Staci is no longer on duty, therefore first names are acceptable). Looking at the clock, it blinked 4:13am at him in red lines. Way too fucking early to be awake but Rook knew that he was not getting back to sleep any time soon. So he rolled out of bed and got himself ready for a hike further into the mountains, hoping to find where Jacob was keeping Staci, if the man was still alive. Rook prayed to a God he wasn't sure he fully believed in that Staci was alive, almost bargaining.

                                       'If Staci and I make it out of this hellhole alive, I will do whatever the fuck you want me to do, I swear it. Just please let me get Staci back alive and in one piece.' Was Rook's final plea to a deity he hoped was listening before heading out into the cool mountain air, ready for whatever Jacob was going to throw at him.


	2. First Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it goes without saying that I am deviating a little bit from Canon, although I am trying to stay somewhat true to the game's plot.

                       Rook had plenty of time to think as he was hiking through the mountains, occasionally liberating an outpost or blowing up a wolf beacon. His mind mostly wandered to something he saw while he was taking down Faith, while tripping on the Bliss. The one time Joseph actually talked to him face to face. There had been a big mushroom cloud behind the other man, one that looking chillingly similar to what he had seen in old black and white videos growing up. Shortly after that, the scene had changed to one of everything being on fire, Joseph going on and on about how the world was going to burn, that it was on the verge of the Collapse, there wasn't much time left. Maybe that had been a trick of the Bliss, but something told Rook that Joseph may be right in that the world was going to burn. 

                       The thought changed his final game plan. He was going to get Staci away from Jacob, and he may or may not kill the oldest Seed brother in the process. Then he was going to find a safe place to put Staci while he warned the others to get under ground. Then they would wait a few days. If nothing happened, then he would go after Joseph and either kill him or arrest him. "I am so retiring after this. I don't care if they say I'm too young to retire." Rook grumbled as he picked his way along a hillside.

                       He had been attempting to stay away from the main roads, as those usually had Peggie patrols roaming around and the last thing he needed was to get caught prematurely. He was under no illusion that he wouldn't get caught eventually, but that didn't mean he wanted it to be any time soon.

                       He soon learned that most prisoners, if they weren't at the FANG Center or the Lumber Mill, were kept at the old Veteran's Clinic at the northern end of the county. Because of course it was. That meant Rook had to fight his way through the entire region just to get to where Staci was most likely being kept. Great. It might just be easier to let himself get taken and hope that he ended up at the Veteran's Clinic. But at the same time, he doesn't want to get reckless. There were more people than Staci that were counting on him, as much as he didn't want the responsibility. Was he honestly the only one capable of picking up a gun and shooting every Peggy that crossed his path? Apparently so. The Whitetail Militia was purely on the defensive and everyone else seemed too scared to bear arms.

                       Rook had just finished liberating the radio station when his radio crackled to life, "Deputy. Did you think that you could cause havoc in my mountains and I would just ignore you?"

                       "Nope. I'm honestly surprised it took you this long to reach out. Only took one liberated outpost to get John on the line. What took you so long?" Rook sassed back without thinking.

                       There was a low chuckle down the line, then a new voice on the radio made every hair on the back of Rook's neck stand on end, "M-Micah? What-?"

                       The voice was cut off, and just before Rook was going to answer, Jacob was back. "There's a little taste of why it took me so long. Had to start training my new pet, Peaches."

                       Now Rook's blood was boiling, "What did you do to him?!"

                      "My hunters are coming for you, Deputy. There is nowhere you can hide now. It'll only be a matter of time before you'll be in my chair." With that, the line went dead.

                      That answered that question. Jacob definitely had Staci and was doing something to him. If Staci had been harmed, the question of whether or not to kill Jacob just got answered. That bastard was going to die. Staci had never been one to stutter like that, he sounded weak, tired, nervous.

                     It was only a few days later when an arrow found it's way into his bicep, hitting so suddenly and out of nowhere that Rook didn't get a chance to register the pain of the arrow before everything went black. When his eyes opened again, it was to a slideshow of wolves fighting for dominance. Then a familiar face stepped into view, dirty and scratched up, eyes slightly sunken and cheekbones more prominent than before. Rook could barely croak out, "Staci...?" due to the dryness in his mouth.

                    His words were quickly shushed as Staci finished tying the bonds around Rook's wrists, securing him to the chair. "You shouldn't have come for me, you should have run!" Staci whispered furiously, eyes darting around for a moment before he turned and scurried, actually scurried like a startled mouse, to the far corner of the room.

                    Jacob then walked into view, holding a small wooden box with a windup key attached. The red-bearded man went on about weakness and culling the herd, stuff that Rook had heard while listening to the broadcasts in vehicles he'd stolen to travel faster the few times he braved being on the road. Then Jacob started winding up the key. The box opened, and red immediately appeared on the edges of Rook's vision, pulsing in time to the music playing from the box. The sound only lasted for a few seconds before everything went briefly black.

                    _Rook opened his eyes to find himself in the same room as before, but everything was lit in red light, and his arms were free. There was a pistol on the table instead of a projector and the other two men in the room were also getting to their feet. Rook snatched up the pistol and barely had time to duck before the others started shooting at him. He quickly understood what needed to happen. So he started shooting everyone he saw. After the first few kills, he heard Jacob's voice whispering in his ear, "Good, cull the herd. Eliminate the weak."_

_It was unnerving to hear, and even more disturbing was that his body was responding to it, craving the praise that had been lacking, even during his stint in the military. Rook grit his teeth and ignored how his body wanted to hear more praise, and just focused on surviving this hellish nightmare. Although, he did say one thing out loud, on the off chance that Jacob could actually hear him, "You know, if you wanted this to be a nightmare, you need to do better. I've seen and handled worse than this." Then he slid down what appeared to be a ramp into darkness once more._

 


	3. Background Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switch to Jacob's POV.

                      Jacob wasn't concerned when his men reported that the Deputy had been rescued by the Whitetails. It didn't matter, the conditioning had taken effect already. All he had to do was play the song over the radio and Rook would come running. Shuffling through more papers on his desk, various reports on his prisoners and their progress with their own conditioning, marking certain ones to be culled, Jacob came across a manila folder. The sight of it made him pause, trying to remember when he had demanded it. Then he shrugged and picked it up, opening the top to be met with a picture of Deputy Micah Rook, in military fatigues. More than the military garb, the insignia on the uniform is what caught Jacob's attention. It was the same one Jacob himself had worn during his stint. Scanning the information, he confirmed that Rook had served during the same time that he had, although a few years behind. Rook was part of the replacement team after his was decimated out in the desert.  
                       Reading further, Jacob learned that Rook's unit had also been shot down, but the team was captured alive rather than dying in the crash like his had. The folder was lacking in exactly what occurred during his captivity, but Jacob doubted the military even knew the full story themselves. That would certainly explain the Deputy's parting words in the middle of the conditioning.  
His men had been able to dig further into Rook's personal life, such as his birth parents and adopted parents, his high school record, etc. Among the papers was a picture, black and white, but very clearly of Rook with his arms lovingly wrapped around another man. Jacob spared a look at the Deputy Staci Pratt, standing in the corner, waiting for further orders. The young man had quickly caved to Jacob's demands, showing obedience without such extreme measures. Glancing back and forth for a bit, Jacob confirmed that the other man in the picture was indeed Pratt. "Peaches. Come here."  
With only a slight flinch, the younger man had been getting better about that the past few weeks, Pratt approached Jacob at his desk, "Yes sir?"  
                        "Is this you in the picture?" Jacob's question was met with a meek nod, his keen eyes not missing the brief flash of longing in his prisoner's eyes. "What does he mean to you? And if you lie, you can forget about food the next couple of days." Jacob warned.  
                         Pratt only hesitated a few moments, the rumble of his stomach, having already gone thee days without food, must've convinced him to come clean. "Rook and I have been dating since high school, that picture was taken at prom. Our relationship has been through so much, his deployment, his trauma, my own family issues, and yet it's remained strong." He looked like he was going to say more but decided against it.  
                          "What else? You're hiding something." Jacob didn't feel the need to get harsh with the younger man, he was obviously lost in memories and it would be easy to prompt him into telling him more.  
                          "Rook was my first...everything. First boyfriend, first fuck, first kiss, everything. I've never felt the need to be with anyone else, even while he was away. Even the thought of cheating would make me feel sick to my stomach." Pratt reached out and took the picture, Jacob letting go of it without a fuss. "I found a ring one day while I was cleaning our apartment. I left it alone, thinking it would only be a matter of time before it made an appearance. Sure enough, not more than three days later, Rook gave me the ring. It was a promise ring, saying that he couldn't afford more right now, but that he planned on proposing when he had a proper ring."  
                          As if just now thinking about it, Pratt looked at his hand, startling with a small sound of panic. "It's gone! The ring is gone!"  
                          Pratt started muttering under his breath as he began looking around the room, lifting papers and books, frantically searching. Jacob didn't have the heart to tell him that it probably came off when they pulled him from the helicopter. Eventually Pratt gave up, collapsing onto the cot in the corner in tears, feeling his heart breaking in two. He clung to the picture, curling into a ball.  
Jacob stared at him, conflicted. On one hand, Pratt was a prisoner, and a bargaining chip against the Deputy. On the other, Pratt and the Deputy were obviously meant to be and Deputy was a military man just like himself. He came to a conclusion and gave the order to have the Deputy brought back to the center. Then he went over to Pratt and sat next to him on the cot. "I'm having the Deputy brought back to the center. I'll let you see him one last time before you become mine."  
                          Pratt stared at him in shock, "What do you mean, become yours?"  
                           "You're my pet now, Peaches. Better get used to this idea. I have no problem with using force to get what I want, but I promise that it will go easier for you and hurt less if you just submit to me. I'm giving you a chance to say goodbye before you become mine and he becomes my tool. Be grateful I'm even giving you this." With that, Jacob leaned down and, with one hand behind Pratt's head, forced the other man into a bruising kiss that left Pratt gasping for breath and staring at him in panicked shock. "Be good, Peaches." were Jacob's parting words as the Soldier left the office and locked the door behind him.  
                            Pratt collapsed back onto the cot, clutching the black and white picture to his chest and whispering, "I'm sorry, Micah, I'm so sorry...." over and over again.


	4. Caught Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the Deputy's POV. There will be major deviance from Canon in this chapter, but not for long.

                         Only three days after Rook was rescued, and promptly recruited, by the Whitetail Militia, he was back out in the mountains, this time not hiding his anger as he stormed outpost after outpost. Rook allowed himself to enjoy the act of shooting an arrow into a Peggy's throat from a distance, almost making a game of it, trying to see how far away he could still make the shot. Then he'd switch to his binoculars immediately to take in the look of shock as the enemy toppled to the ground, dead or in the process of dying. It wasn't long before that got boring and Rook got control of himself once more, realizing that he was proving Jacob right, as the late night radio calls had tried to tell him; that he was an animal, a killing machine waiting to be turned on, to be given orders.  
                          Thinking about Staci usually helped bring back his control and clarity. He needed to remain level-headed so he can rescue his beloved from Jacob's clutches. Even now, as Rook is preparing to take back the FANG Center, monitoring guard rotations and other enemy movements, locating prisoners, and watching for other wild animals/Judges in the area, his mind kept wandering to Staci, and the ring that was laying in his sock drawer back home. He had been planning on proposing to Staci after they arrested Joseph, taking his love to a nice dinner and generally spoiling the hell out of the other man because he deserved it.  
                          Rook had to shake his head to dispel those thoughts. It wouldn't do to be caught not paying attention. Aiming his silenced sniper rifle, Rook began the assault on the FANG Center, taking back the outpost by himself without leaving his sniper nest. These Peggies must be slacking off, no one had even seen him despite the nest not being that well hidden. Or maybe....? Shit.  
                          Just as his face left his scope, the butt end of a rifle connected with the back of his head and everything went black.  
Rook woke up to a pounding head and a bright light shining directly in his face. He rolled onto his side and landed in a pool of something he didn't want to know about yet. Keeping his eyes scrunched up, Rook sat up, feeling the wetness under his palm that could be any number of unpleasant things, from blood to urine to vomit. Blinking his eyes open, he waited for the dizziness to subside before looking up. Great. He was in a cage again.  
                          For a split second, the dark mud turned to bright sand, and the slight breeze turned hot and blistering and he was back in the desert. His throat felt like he'd swallowed sandpaper, everything felt dry and cracked, including his skin. Then he blinked and the desert disappeared. Although, the new view wasn't much better, since Jacob was standing in front of his cage, squatting down to be eye level with Rook. "I guess I'm going to need to do something different to get you trained. The conditioning didn't seem to stick." Jacob spoke casually, as if discussing the weather.  
                         Rook coughed, still swearing he could taste sand before croaking out, "It'll be hard to beat the shit I went through in the goddamn desert."  
                        Jacob nodded, "I read your file. Prisoner of War, honorable discharge after being rescued, though no one seems to know what happened during your captivity. DIdn't want to tell them?"  
                        "Not really. I didn't know any important info, so there was nothing to worry about leaking and the higher ups were content to leave it at that." The more he talked, the better his throat felt, the sensation and memory of sand fading. "Where's Staci?"  
                        "Oh, Peaches? He's up in my office. I know about your relationship, it was mentioned in the file and Peaches filled me in a little bit more." Jacob gave a wicked grin, "I'm giving you one opportunity to tell each other goodbye before I claim Peaches for myself. He's oh so responsive when given the right incentive."  
                          Rook's eyes flashed with anger and Jacob was surprised to feel a tiny thread of fear in the back of his mind, something telling him that pushing this man in front of him was a very bad idea. But Jacob had a lot of practice with ignoring that voice. "Don't you dare touch him, you fucking sick bastard!" Rook snapped.  
                          "Too late. Pratt told me that he was never with anyone but you, that you were his first everything, even while you were serving overseas. Such loyalty deserves to be rewarded, don't you think? OH, by the way, he lost your promise ring in the helicopter crash. Must not have cared about it that much to only notice now." Jacob shrugged before standing and walking away.  
                           Rook was grateful that he had learned how to hide his emotions because the triumphant grin on his face would've been hard to ignore anyways. Staci was forgetful sometimes. And that usually meant Rook was picking stuff up that the other man had forgotten, such as his promise ring that had been left on the bathroom counter while getting ready for work half asleep. Even now, Rook carried that ring in his pocket, something that he felt for now and was relieved to feel the slight outline still in his pocket. Now he just needed to wait until he got to see Staci.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to put out one chapter per day, but I may not be able to stick to that as the school year progresses so heads up!


	5. Assault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rook gets sexually assaulted and it's relatively graphic. Here's your warning. Angsty fluff towards the end.

                                      It wasn't too long after the talk with Jacob that Rook was escorted, at gunpoint despite being tied up so tightly that he could barely walk, to a room at the upper level of the Veteran's Center. The room was bare, save for a pole that went floor to ceiling in the center of the room. Rook would've laughed at the idea that it was a stripper pole had he not been in the process of being tied to it. The ropes were taken away and replaced by a handcuff on both wrists, attached around the pole and another on his ankles, holding in a similar way. He wasn't going anywhere, not without taking the pole with him. One of his escorts gave him a sick grin, "Not much you can do, tied up like that, huh? We could do anything we wanted to you and there'd be nothing you could do about it."  
                                     Disgust curled heavy in Rook's stomach at the words, "Don't think Jacob would appreciate that though, since I believe he was the one to give you the orders to bring me here."  
                                     A dark chuckle left the other Chosen as he stepped closer, running two fingers over Rook's cheek, "Don't be like that, we know what you really want. You've been practically gagging for it since you were brought here. Don't think we didn't notice you watching Jacob earlier. We could practically see the lust in your eyes from across the courtyard. I bet that you need a good hard dicking to put you back in your place and since Jacob doesn't seem to want to do that, I guess we'll have to."  
                                     The one who was currently touching him had a long scar across the front of his face so Rook named him Scarface in his head. Scarface used his other hand to run down Rook's front, to the button on his ragged pants, just resting there. As touch-starved as Rook was, it was a challenge to keep his body from reacting the way it wanted to, pushing into the touch. When Scarface recieved no reaction, his grip tightened to an almost painful level, making Rook gasp and buck into the hand holding his dick in a death-grip. "There we go, so responsive now. Not so tough with a hand on your cock, now are you?" Scarface cooed in his ear, pressing his own hard dick into Rook's ass.  
                                    Rook was trapped, stuck between a metal pole and a pervert, with the pervert's friend watching the proceedings, no doubt getting off on it as well. He felt his pants being unbuttoned, slipping easily down his slim hips to  barely rest on his upper thighs. It was a miracle they even stayed up with all the weight he's lost since putting them on. With a greater range of motion, the hand on his dick started moving, coaxing him unwillingly to full hardness. Rook was having to swallow back moans, not wanting his tormentors to have the satisfaction of knowing his physical pleasure. Even as pleasure was wracking his body, his mind was screaming out apologies to Staci, that he doesn't want this, that he's not trying to enjoy these acts being forced on him.  
                                     As much as Rook tried to detach himself from the situation mentally, the Chosen that was observing seemed to notice every time and let his partner know, who then would do something painful to bring him back to his body, force him to endure it. Minutes, hours, an impossibly long time later and Rook climaxed, barely choking back the cry that threatened to leave his lips. As he sagged against the pole, trying to distance himself from the man behind him, he felt Scarface's hips jolting a few times, then stilling as the man groaned behind him, obviously finding his own release.  
                                    Scarface righted himself and his clothing, leaving Rook standing there, pants barely on and release rapidly cooling in his boxers, before they both walked out the door without looking back. For the first time in a long time, Rook allowed himself to cry.  
                                    If Rook had to guess, he would have to say it had been about an hour before he heard the door open again. It was behind him, because he didn't want anyone to see him like this, at least not right away. He heard a soft gasp of his name, his actual name, not deputy or Rook, "Micah!"  
                                   His head snapped up and he looked over his should as Staci came running into the room towards him. Jacob stepped in behind Staci, closing the door once more, but staying by it. It was obvious by the confused frown on his face that Jacob could smell what had happened here and didn't like it. Staci didn't realize something had happened until he actually reached Rook at got a good look at him, "Micah?"  
                                     Rook gave a weak smile, "Hey Stace. Sorry about...this." He looked down at himself, the disgusting mess that was his boxers.  
                                    "What happened?" The question came from Jacob of all people.  
                                     Rook looked at him, shifting his arms a bit higher so Staci could give him a hug, "You should know, you told them to do it, after all. All part of the plan to break me, huh? Especially after what you said about Staci, I wouldn't put it past you."  
                                      Now Jacob looked angry, but not at Rook surprisingly, "I can smell what happened. You should know that I did not order them to do that, to assault you like that. Who were they?"  
Rook blinked and gave a description of both of them. Jacob nodded, "You two, take this time to say your goodbyes, I have to go take care of some business. I'll be back soon. And Peaches? There are guards outside if you want to leave before I get back."  
                                      With those parting words, Jacob left the room and Rook all but collapsed, leaning on both Staci and the pole. "God, Stace, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to feel anything but I couldn't help it!" Rook begged forgiveness from his beloved, not wanting to see anger or disgust in the other's eyes.  
                                      Staci shushed him, holding Rook's face between his hands and kissing him silent. After a few minutes of gently kissing, Staci pulled away slightly, "I forgive you, Micah. I know it wasn't your choice. I just hope that you can forgive me too. I know what Jacob is going to do to me, you know it too. I don't want him, but until we can get out of here, we have to play our parts. I'll be thinking of you each time, though, I swear it."  
                                      "And I will be trying my best to get out of here and find a way to stop Jacob. All of the others have been dealt with already, there's only him and Joseph left now. I wanted to make sure that I could focus only on saving you. I love you, Staci, to the end of time and back." Rook promised, resting his forehead on his love's, similarly to how he's seen Joseph interact with his brothers.  
                                      For the rest of the time, they were silent, just enjoying their last time together until the opening of the door jolted them out of it. Still, they didn't move until they heard Jacob clear his throat,        "Come on Peaches, I've given you enough time to say goodbye. Let's go."  
                                      Staci lingered for only a few seconds longer before breaking away and heading towards Jacob. The big man glanced at Rook, almost to make sure he was watching before he leaned down and roughly claimed a kiss from Staci. The smaller man gasped into it, obviously not expecting it, nor did he relax into it, just passively letting it happen. Nothing stopped the pang of guilt in his heart that he had to let this happen, for both of their sakes. With that claiming display done, Jacob led the way out the door, leaving Rook alone once more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switch to Pratt's POV. Still kind of graphic as Jacob has his way with Staci, whether he likes it or not.

                             Pratt left the room with a heavy heart, trying to resign himself to the idea that he was never going to see Micah again, at least not in any friendly circumstances. Jacob was going to turn his boyfriend into a mindless killing machine and Pratt himself was going to be, for lack of a better term, Jacob's mate. As ridiculous as it felt, Pratt found himself saying a silent prayer of thanks to God that he was unable to get pregnant because that would've been unbearable. He was lead back to Jacob's office, through a door at the back into a sparse bedroom. Once inside, Jacob locked the door and pinned Pratt with a glare. "Strip and lay on the bed." Pratt froze. He hadn't realized or even thought that this was going to be happening so soon. Jacob must not have liked his hesitation, because he backhanded Pratt and sent him sprawling on the floor. "You will listen to me, Peaches, or this is going to be worse for you."

                          With shaking hands, Pratt started peeling off his dirty clothes, leaving them in a mess on the floor. They were already basically rags, what's the harm in letting them wrinkle? Only a second of hesitation before he lay on the bed, hands clenching in the pristine white sheets nervously. Jacob didn't even bother stripping himself, just opened his pants and pulled his cock out, the sight only adding to Pratt's humiliation. Tears were already forming in Pratt's eyes, though he fought to not let them fall, not wanting to give Jacob even more reason to berate or punish him. Grabbing a small tub of what Pratt could only hope to be some form of lubricant, Jacob crawled up onto the bed, barely wide enough to hold the both of them. "Spread 'em" Jacob ordered, not waiting for Pratt to comply before roughly shoving his legs open and kneeling between them.

                           Pratt let out a small whimper as Jacob coated two fingers (only two? How in the world is he going to take Jacob with only two fingers?!), and unceremoniously shoved both inside him. Pratt breath caught in his throat, a scream building before he could even try to stop it. The only thing preventing the noise from being too loud was Jacob's other hand clamping tightly over his mouth, partially obscuring his nose as well. The suffocating feeling brought about an overwhelming sense of panic and Pratt started thrashing his head back and forth, trying to shake the hand loose from his face, let him breathe again. There was nowhere to go. He was impaled on two of Jacob's large fingers, arousal building with every push against his prostate, despite reluctance about the act itself, and the hand around his lower face. Pratt was very quickly working himself towards a panic attack.

                            Just as his vision was going black around the edges from hyperventilation, unaware that he was attempting to shout, "Let me go! Let me go!" through the hand, he heard Jacob swear. Then, the hand was gone, only to have his own head violently move to the side from another backhand that sent his vision reeling for a different reason than lack of oxygen.

                            Before he could recover enough to speak, all breath was stolen from his lungs in a piercing shriek as Jacob slammed his length home in one rough shove. Everything seemed to slow down, as if the room was filled with molasses, and the only thing Pratt could feel was pain. It seemed to be coming from everywhere; his ass, which he was sure was torn and bleeding (there was no way it couldn't be, not from someone as large as Jacob), his cheek from being hit twice, his stomach from panicking and lack of food, his tongue from biting it in an attempt to muffle himself. Only a few seconds later and the world resumed it's normal speed and now Jacob was just seeking his own pleasure, driving in and out of Pratt's abused body seemingly without a care for the man underneath him.

                             Every thrust was pure pain for Pratt, he could feel his body ripping and tearing, every new push adding to the waves crashing over him. Tears were freely streaming down his face, great heaving sobs ripping from his chest with every violent thrust. In what felt like an eternity, but was really only 15 minutes, Jacob stilled, grunting out his release before collapsing on top of Pratt. The younger man could only lay there, still slightly twitching from the lingering pain, now having faded from a sharp pain to an ache.

                            Jacob collected himself, pulled out, cleaned and tucked away before Pratt even knew what was happening. A hand gently slapped his cheek, the same one that had been hit before, causing him to flinch away despite screaming protests from his body, "You're a good fuck, Peaches. But we'll have to work on that noise level. Can't have you distracting the guards when they're supposed to be working."

                            Jacob went to leave, but stopped before he could exit the room, "Oh, don't bother putting on clothes. I won't be gone long. Although, I do suppose you could get cleaned up, if you can still move. I wonder how your Deputy would feel about you now that you've been taken by another man. Would he still feel the same, I wonder?" With a cruel smirk, Jacob left.

                            Staci Pratt lay on the bed for a long time, praying to a God he didn't necessarily believe in to get him out of this hellhole before he did the unthinkable and kill himself.


End file.
